YoSaffBridge etc
by meridian-rose
Summary: Saffron-centric ficlets mostly written for challenge com prompts
1. YoSaffBridgeIver

She laughs and sips at her wine.

"Oh, you are too kind. Too kind indeed." She paces, stands in front of the seated Badger.

He grins and refills her glass. "No, I mean it. With bone structure like that you could be a model. I hate that new advert for Fruity Oaty Bars; the woman in it looks malnourished. Why would I eat something that clearly hasn't got enough calories to stop my cheeks sinking into my face? I prefer a woman with a bit of flesh, you know."

"Really?" She grins, unwraps the lacy shawl from her shoulders and drops it to the floor behind her. "Like this?" With the shawl gone, a tight red top emphasises her cleavage, her tight trousers the curve of her behind.

He reaches out and caresses her buttocks. She makes no move to stop him, simply giggles. Badger tugs at her and she ends up perched on his lap.

"You smell so good," Badger whispers, closing his eyes. He's had her frisked, and she isn't carrying any weapons. It's been so long and he wants this so badly.

"Oil of lavender," she whispers back, running her hands though his hair, pulling his head to rest upon her breasts. "Very expensive out here."

Badger inhales the scent. "River," he whispers. "That's such a pretty name."

"I know." She lifts his head, one manicured fingernail digging ever so slightly into his chin. "Kiss me, Badger. I can't bear to wait any longer."

He presses his lips to hers as she leans over. There's a brief moment of ecstasy and then Badger's eyes roll back in his head and he goes limp.

Yo-Saff-Bridge-iver stands and wipes her lips on her sleeve. She goes to his desk and finds the locked drawer, quickly breaking open the lock and taking the small box that is inside. All the while she fakes noises of passion to ensure no-one disturbs them.

Then she pulls one strap of her vest top down from her shoulder, musses up her hair some more. She wraps the box up in her shawl and staggers out, feigning drunkenness and post-coital bliss as she passes the guards.

Several streets away, she thrusts the box at the man in the shadows. "Here. Now we're even, Reynolds."

"I don't think so," Malcolm says. "I haven't left you naked anywhere yet."

She smiles, tips her head, thrusting her breasts forward seductively. "We could get naked."

"How stupid do you think I am? Don't answer that. Thanks, Saffron. I'm sure we'll cross paths again one day."

Saffron watches as he walks away, joined by Jayne and Zoë. She has no chance of tricking him this time.

She reaches into her boot, takes out and reapplies the lipstick, then heads out to find another mark.


	2. Never Again

"Take a look around," Mal said, one arm resting on Saffron's hip. "Is there anyone in the room you're married to? Cause I don't fancy getting into a fist fight on account of some man whose heart you stole right before you stole his valuables."

Saffron scowled. "I checked the guest list." She smiled charmingly at a young man who eyed her appreciatively as he went past, all business again as soon as he'd gone.

"The only reason I asked you along on this job is because you're supposed to know where the statue is. Now make with the details."

"Patience, darling, patience. It ain't polite to steal and run. Have a drink first," Mal soothed, sipping from his own champagne flute by way of example. "Now, act a little drunk and follow my lead."

He led her out of the ballroom and down a corridor. They both played inebriated, giggling and grabbing at each other. The only security officer they passed rolled his eyes and ignored them.

"No kissing," Mal reminded her, pushing her against a wall. "Now, see this door to my left? Looks like just a storage closet? That's the vault. Now I'll go make with the distraction while you do your thing."

Twelve minutes later with the fire alarm ringing and the evacuated guests standing around on the lawn, Mal waited impatiently. Finally Saffron, shoeless, with one shoulder strap of her dress torn, raced across the lawn. She was clutching her shawl – which, he assumed the statue was safely wrapped in.

"Run," Saffron yelled and he didn't need telling twice.

"What went wrong?" Mal asked as they headed for the shuttle.

"You said the vault was a Sterling 800! It was a 900. _Completely_ different."

"Oops?"

"Amateur!" Never again, she swore. Mal was always trouble.


	3. Unbound

"Saffron?"

Of all the people in the 'verse to find her it had to Malcolm Reynolds? He crouched down and pulled the gag from her face. She glared at him.

"Is this one of those kinky games you like to play with your husbands?"

She bit back a retort; insulting your rescuer wasn't wise. He pulled out a knife and for a moment she fought panic. Then he sliced through the ropes at her wrists, and removed her bonds. He even rubbed at her numbed and chafed skin. Then he cut through the rope at her ankles and held out his hand.

She let him help her up, legs unsteady from the cramped position she'd been in for hours. He held her to him, letting her recover.

"You're lucky. Your latest mark had a little…accident. He's not coming back. You might have starved to death," Mal said softly. "That's what happens when you have no back up."

"Like you do?"

"Yes."

"How do you suggest I accomplish that?"

"Join my crew for a spell. We keep running into each other, getting in each other's business, so to speak. Might as well be working together."

"Are you serious?" She gazed into his eyes; he looked to be.

Mal nodded. "You cheat me again I'll kill you," he said. "But you trust me and we can do great things."

Her hand went to his groin. She smiled at the stunned expression this provoked.

"I can think of many things we can do together, _Captain_."

He swallowed hard. "I remember that didn't go smooth last time."

"It will be different," she promised. And right then she meant it. Probably later she'd betray him, but for now he was the best deal she had.

Best deal she'd probably ever get, truth be told.


	4. Once A Thief

For the darkship prompt meme "take everything you've got" and for the 100_tales prompt #074 Decisions

**Summary:** With Saffron onboard, Mal isn't the only one questioning her loyalty

Takes place after chapter 3: Unbound

* * *

"You know she's just playing you," Inara told Mal. After all that happened on Miranda, he'd thought their relationship had turned a corner. Turned out the next stretch of road was just as full of bumps and dead ends as the previous ones. So he wasn't inclined to take her word for it, seeing as maybe she was jealous but not willing to admit it. It was Nandi all over again.

* * *

"Saffron," Mal asked River. "You think she's playing us?" There were advantages to having a psychic onboard.

River paused, fingers hovering over the flight controls. "Playing _you_?" she asked pointedly.

"Answer the question," Mal replied sternly.

"Hard to tell."

"What do you mean, hard to tell?" Mal took the co-pilot's chair and spun it to face her.

River sighed. "Not easy reading someone's mind. You often think about killing Jayne but you've not done it yet. Thought is not action."

"I'm of a mind to stop her before she gets to the action."

"The problem is, she doesn't know herself," River explained. "She's conflicted. You've helped her and she wants to repay that, but she's been a thief a long time and she's not used to trust. Not giving it nor being worthy of it. Subconsciously she feels unworthy, could sabotage herself."

"More the sabotaging us that I'm worried about," Mal said. "So it's not a question of if she'll turn on us, but when?"

"Nothing is fixed," River said. "One the one hand, she's making an effort to fit in, to be part of the crew."

True. She'd even cooked, though the least said about that the better.

"And on the other?"

"She's planning to take everything you've got." River shrugged. "She just hasn't decided which yet."

Realising that was all the advice he was going to get, Mal stood and moved to the doorway.

"I'd take precautions," River said over her shoulder, adding with a wicked grin, "all kinds."

There were definite disadvantages to having a psychic onboard.

* * *

"That was almost worth the special hell," Mal whispered.

Next to him, Saffron giggled. She ran one hand through her hair, still highlighted in blue from a disguise she'd worn on their latest job.

"I'm skilled in many areas," she said.

Mal's eyes widened as her hand moved beneath the covers. "Again? So soon?"

"Well if you can't keep up the pace…"

Mal grabbed her, held her down and blew raspberry kisses on her naked belly. Saffron shrieked in protest, snatching up a pillow and beating Mal with it until he stopped.

"You're insane," she giggled when he drew back.

"I know." Mal lay down alongside her once more, trying to get his breath back. "You know, River thinks you're planning to cross us, take everything I've got."

"And what do you think?"

"That it's possible and, given past experience, probable."

Saffron nodded, not in the least insulted.

"I couldn't take everything," she said at last. "Your crew. They're loyal to you. They love you. I could never take them."

Mal propped himself up on one elbow. "You could get them hurt. And that I couldn't forgive." It was a warning that she'd do well to heed. When he thought that had sunk in, he leaned over and kissed her.

"Of course, you're one of the crew now," he said. He turned off the light and snuggled down, fidgeting with the pillows for some time before he got comfortable and began to snore softly.

* * *

Saffron stared up at the top of the bunk. One of the crew. One of the family. It didn't do to rob family, but what was a thief like her going to do? She'd been faced with many tough decisions in her life, but this was going to take some serious figuring out.


	5. Damaged

_I didn't intend these to be a part of a coherent story but since they're falling that way, consider this one I wrote earlier on to take place anytime before chapter three "Unbound". For a "minor character drabble" challenge._

* * *

"Honey," the man said, putting one arm around her waist as she stood in front of the largest picture in the gallery. It wasn't just an endearment. Honey Goshawk was her latest identity.

"Colin," she purred, her upper class but colony specific accent (his mother's accent, she'd done her research) still a little odd on her tongue. "This painting, here, I do declare I am in love with it."

"Then you shall have it," Colin promised, leaning over and kissing her hair – black tresses that he was unaware was a very good wig.

Saffron smiled and leaned into his chest. "You are too good to me."

Then she froze – Reynolds! No, she thought as the man turned. Same height and build, similar hair colour but not Reynolds. She calmed herself, still feeling her heart racing. Colin had caught her momentary panic.

"Honey?" he asked, concerned.

She fanned herself exaggeratedly. "I'm fine, my darling. Just – thought I saw someone I knew."

He nodded. "Let me get you a drink," he offered.

What would Reynolds call her if he saw her? Yo-Saf-Bridge-y? Ho-Yo-Saf-Bridge? More importantly, why couldn't she get him out of her mind? Why did she see him lurking in shadows, and in her dreams? No mark had ever gotten to her the way he had.

Saffron accepted the proffered champagne and downed it in one go, despite Colin's look of surprise and mild disapproval.

If she ever saw Malcolm Reynolds again she'd shoot him. He'd ruined her already damaged life.


End file.
